Batman: Under His Wing
by WereGarurumonX
Summary: Dick just wants Bruce to accept him for who he is. But Bruce can barely accept himself. Batman/Nightwing.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: "Batman", "Nightwing", and all related characters/locations are property of DC Comics._

_Summary: Dick just wants Bruce to accept him for who he is. But Bruce can barely accept himself. _

_Batman and Nightwing agree to work together as partners, but clashing of egos and repressed emotions deliver themselves in ways both frustrating and stimulating._

_Warnings: Contains Mature subject matter relating to adult language and situations described in full detail. Sexual content will be present in some chapters—between two **males**._

_Authors' Notes: This is my first multi-chapter for a while. Sex will come, but it will not be for a few chapters because I would like to develop this story more before getting to the climax._

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_**Batman: Under His Wing**_

_Prologue/Chapter One: Another Night_

Batman had always been a loner.

As a hero of the much-troubled Gotham City, Bruce Wayne was forced to conceal his true identity as the billionaire playboy. There were those close to him; Alfred, his butler and lifelong friend and father figure, whom of course raised him after the murder of his parents. Barbara Gordon, also known as The Oracle, and former Batgirl, whom was crippled after a near-fatal attack, but never losing her will to fight for justice, served as both Batman and Bruce Wayne's guide. He felt responsible for her disability. It was a horrible feeling that haunted him. He was fearful of anyone getting close for such things happening. Dick Grayson was more of a successful protégé; willful, rebellious in spirit—a son to him. Similar in so many ways as he too had lost his parents to villains, and in feeling so much empathy for the boy, Bruce felt beyond compelled to take him and give him a better life. Dick had become the first Robin, much to Batman's horror.

Yes. Batman worked alone. But he wouldn't have become the hero he is without the help of great allies as the ones he had. He was grateful, but still hated the way they brought danger to their own lives by simply _knowing_ him. Oracle was a prime example, but at least she has the sense to stay at arms-length. He'd hate if anything else happened to her.

'Bruce—what's on your mind?' She asked, her concerned yet urgent tone crackling in his ear, bringing him back to reality as he gazed through vigilant eyes over the extensive gothic metropolis known as Gotham City.

'It's nothing.' He gruffly stated, his knuckles turning white under his gloved hands as they gripped the edge of the building, looking down upon a suspicious scene; a truck—no lights, backing up quietly in to the alley below.

'With you Bruce, It's _never_ nothing.'

Batman didn't respond, he got a closer look as three targets—unarmed it appeared, emerged from the truck, and another vehicle—a car, approached from behind, and then another, approaching from the front, blocking the truck in as there in between the truck and the cars, the group of men met each other.

'Just another group of thugs I need to clean off the streets.'

'Anyone new?' She asked, the sound of her slurping her coffee could be heard, making Batman feel worse.

'No. The usual suspects.' He replied after getting a closer look at their faces—No-one important, just a few dealers most likely. He saw the truck containing a large weight at this time of night and had a good idea what it might contain at this suspicious hour. 'Barbara… I'll be fine. Get some sleep.'

'Huh?' Oracle seemed surprised, but had to admit there was only so much coffee could do for her anymore these days. 'Alright if you're sure… Give me a call if you need me, okay?' She knew he probably wouldn't since he always had trouble admitting he needed help, but this seemed like a usual night for Batman. He was a pro— he could handle these guys. 'I'll be going then… Bruce… do me a favor? Get some sleep yourself okay? See you tomorrow at dads.'

'Goodnight.' He disconnected the call, sparing her the task of doing it herself and also sparing him the awkward favor she asked of him. He knew she'd understand if he didn't like talking about himself. There was no easy way to be the friend of both Bruce Wayne and batman at the same time—it always made him uncomfortable when people like Barbara would break through the walls and combine Bruce and Batman in the same world. He didn't like mixing personal and business. And as such, he got back to it.

The thugs in the street were nothing special; two parties joined in the middle of the alley for an illegal transaction. Batman had dealt with many of these before, though usually they were drugs—judging by the heavy wooden crates that were being unloaded from the back of the truck needing four guys to lift, said that the contents were definitely heavier than drugs. Batman would have to be careful. If he just dove in, he would be quickly overwhelmed assuming the crates contained firearms.

Taking no chances, he switched on his cowl's Detective-Mode Vision, and zooming in, he saw through the crates like an x-ray machine, and immediately, the supercomputer based in the Batcave immediately told him that they were indeed loaded firearms. So much for this being simple, Batman thought.

But wait…

Where was the tradeoff?

Something told him this was bad news; one side delivering heavy weaponry and not asking for anything in return? It seemed unlikely so he continued to watch as two more crates were unloaded and stacked on top of each other as the thugs in the cars wasted no time in cracking the top crate open before the truck-riders could say anything.

Giving off a noise of delight, the main guy, who seemed to be the one who was tasked with checking the merchandise, took out one of the guns: heavy, needing to be wielded two-handed: Definitely military grade. "Not bad."

'Where's the girl?' One of the truck-driving thugs spoke up.

His demand did not go unheard as a disgusting sneer plastered the grizzled face of the leader. He nodded to the car still parked behind the truck, and quickly, emerged one man, tall and masked, dragging a woman behind him. She was tall leggy and blonde—the model type. A blindfold covered her eyes, undoubtedly to conceal the identities of the men who held her hostage.

Batman didn't need Oracle to tell him this was not an ordinary transaction, and needed to be approached with the most care, after all it was made all the more complicated that lives could be at stake. It didn't make it easier that the woman, who was struggling, was also hysterical, crying and would be screaming too if the thug holding her wasn't threatening her with another punch. And even with the blindfold, he recognized the woman. Deborah Carter: The mayors' mistress.

A vain, miserable woman in her early forties who lived on the scraps the Mayor threw her whenever their secret, illicit meetings took place. After a highly publicized leak to the media a couple of years ago, Deborah Carter was left disgraced and heartbroken as the affair was ended; during a public apology by the Mayor to the press. Of course, that was just for the public, and pathetically she came crawling back when he crawled, desperate for the attention he lavished on her.

Batman was never more grateful Bruce Wayne was never married. He idly imagined what it would be like: being married. He couldn't visualize it. Ever. He refused to let women close. And even then it ended badly, usually by them claiming his plain-sighted lack of interest was crushing to their self-esteem. He agreed: They could do better.

'Shut up, bitch or I'll cut your throat!' Her silence was earned under the threat of death. She was brought the center of the meeting where the leader signaled his men to hand over the woman, while the rest were busy loading the three crates in to the back of the cars: one in the car behind the truck, and two in the car in front of the truck. It seemed this could become troublesome for Batman, who now was faced with the dilemma of jumping down in to the middle of the gang, and risk getting shot, or take an even bigger risk in letting those guns hit the streets.

No. He could not take that chance.

'Look out—It's the Bat!'

His wings guided him gracefully down in to the idle of the two gangs. They startled but immediately sprang in to actions; the leader quickly shoved the weapons crates in to the back of his car and leaving his two henchmen, backed his car back out of the alley. The man converged on Batman, assuming clenched fists and snarling fearful faces.

'You'd better surrender.' He warned, ever aware that he could not let the car get far. The woman was swiftly forced in to the back of the now empty truck, screaming, as the doors were slammed shut, locking her inside. He couldn't let them take her either. This was tricky with five thugs surrounding him. He had to take them down fast in order to catch up with those weapons.

A flying fist came at him. He grabbed it, and twisted, bringing the man down to his knees as two of the thugs behind him jumped him, trying to hold his arms back but Batman could not be restrained; he twisted on the spot and quickly broke their holds, following up with a roundhouse kick to bot of their jaws, sending them flying in to the ground.

The first thug, holding his broken wrist staggered away, and got in to the truck.

Batman now faced two thugs, who, looking slightly more desperate, had managed to find metal bars, which they had picked off the dismantled construction going on in the alley. One swung the bar at Batman; he grabbed the metal weapon in both hands as quickly as he could.

He grunted as a strike in his side of another metal bar caused minor pain but no damage through his thick muscular body and protective batsuit. He turned around and delivered a hefty kick to the attackers' stomach, sending him down in pain as the other thug struggled to wrestled back the iron bar back from Batman's grasp.

The fight then quickly turned dirty, as the two from behind who were kicked, were back on their feet and punched him in the back from behind. He instinctively ducked out of the way, letting the iron bar go, making the guy struggling so hard for it, fall over on his back. He turned back to the two behind him and didn't flinch as one grabbed him by the shoulders; he just dispatched him with a single head-butt.

'Let's see if you can take this Bat—!'

Batman grunted, feeling the iron bar from one of the men now behind snap in two against the back of his head.

The thugs stared wide-eyed.

'He's freakin' invincible!' They finally began to back off, seeing Batman, still unharmed after taking a hit that would on a normal person be considered fatal.

The starting of an engine quickly cut the fight short. Batman saw the lights of the truck in front flash in his eyes. Blinding him. For a moment, Batman saw nothing until he heard the sound of the truck urgently backing up down the alley followed by the sound of scraping, crashing metal as the truck driver ploughed back through the car blocking their exit, knocking it aside as the truck made it out in to the streets of Gotham. They were taking the woman.

As the rest of the gang were abandoned, they quickly disbanded and began to escape while Batman was distracted in to the shadows of the alley. He could have apprehended them all if he wanted, but he hadn't the time. Now there was two vehicles out in the streets: one containing firearms, the other containing a hostage. He had to retain them both in order to prevent more trouble. But how could he? He cursed, realizing he had relented the opportunity to simply place tracking devices on them, avoiding this ugly fight entirely.

Before he knew it, the alley was empty again. It seemed the thugs had fled, and in the melee, had forget the smashed up car. Batman approached it, seeing that it had one weapons crate in the back still. He had to dispose of these weapons in order to prevent the chaos that would ensue if they got back in to the hands of the criminals.

Not having the time to do it the professional way, Batman unhooked his explosive gel gadget. A tool that created a medium explosive charge strong enough to bring down a wall in the right circumstance, he squirted extra helpings on the wooden crate and dragged the heavy crate out in to the alley, watching as he let it go off: sparks and shards of metal now littered the alley as little was left. So, he was satisfied that they could not be salvaged, he unhooked his grapnel hook and prepared to emerge to the rooftops to look for the car and the truck.

'That was a bit unsubtle.'

'Nightwing.' Batman stopped, and turned to his former protégé with little surprise crossing his features, although he was not expecting to see Richard 'Dick' Grayson back on the streets as Nightwing. Usually they keep to separate sectors of the massive city, reducing each other's workloads. But now, he was grateful to see the cocky smirking face of his.

'Looks like you need a hand.' Nightwing was ever confident, not unlike his former identity as Robin, but he was no longer Batman's sidekick, and for him to be offering his help once more—Batman wasn't going to be turning it away.

'You pick a hell of a time to show up Dick.'

'What? No happy to see you's?' When he received an in-character blank faced expression from Batman, he knew he probably wasn't in the mood for playful banter. He sighed. 'Nah, I hate that too. So… what's the deal?'

'Trouble.'

In unison, the old partnership was kicked back in to action as they both aimed their grapple hooks for the rooftops, and quickly ascended to the skyline side-by-side.

As they emerged, Nightwing scoffed. 'Isn't it always?'

'I'm assuming here you _saw_ what happened.'

'I did. What? Is there something wrong with asking questions? The wise man asks questions—the fool assumes he knows all.'

'Hm. I taught you that.'

'I never said you didn't.' A brief smile broke from Batman but it was barely noticeable.

'Go after the truck—rescue the girl.' He said, pointing in the general direction where he logically dictated the truck should have got to by this point. 'And I'll stop those guns from hitting the streets of Gotham.'

Just as Batman was about to leap from one rooftop to the next, he felt a hand on his chest, halting his actions. He looked at Nightwing's disapproving face with a frown. He didn't have the time for the macho show Nightwing had insisted on adopting.

'Nah-ah, what?—you think I can't handle it?' His voice sounded raw, emotional. 'I'm not your little boy any more Bruce—Why do you still not have faith in me? I think I've proved myself enough. No. You go get the girl—I'm going for the guns.'

Batman was not up for an argument, but judging by Nightwing's hardened eyes said this wasn't up for discussion, so he let the child have his way and watched as the headstrong youth shake his head and turn, leaping gracefully over to the next roof. Batman was just trying to protect him, which he obviously didn't want him doing anymore: An old habit that he still had trouble getting over.

Nightwing was not a boy, no longer Batman's clever sidekick, or Bruce Wayne's son, he was his own man and was determined to prove himself to his old partner, although he thought by now Bruce would have heard of Nightwing's heroic deeds and realized he no longer had to watch the back of the reckless kid who used to get in trouble. He ran swiftly across the rooftops, agile and strong as he didn't need Batman's directions—he had learned enough on his own and besides—how hard could it be to find some stupid speeding car on deserted midnight streets? He saw nothing on the main streets, but he would not give up the way he may have in the past. He used his skills and experience: listening.

There was indeed the sound of screeching tires, blazing the way through back alleys; destroying trashcans and making cats flee in fear. This wouldn't be that hard, Nightwing thought as he followed the trail of destruction. Apparently the car with the crates of weapons in had stuck to the backstreets, probably assuming they'd have a better chance of escape from Batman. But Nightwing was not Batman, and he was determined to make his name.

When he finally had a visual on the vehicle, he realized he would need to be on street-level in order to stop it, so he went ahead, taking shortcuts along the rooftops until he was actually in front of the car and, using his background as the acrobat he was, he leapt off the roof, and did a swan dive, gliding through the air right on time to land spread eagled on the roof to the car, his fingers gripping in to the sides as the driver, shocked and scared, panicked and in failing to see the dead end up ahead, sent the car screeching sideways in to a wall.

Nightwing clung on despite the heavy collision and taking a moment to remember to breathe, he slowly got off the roof, and peered in through the window. The driver was groaning, rubbing the side of his bleeding head. Nightwing felt no sympathy, and yanked open the side door, scaring the driver half to death as he was pulled from the wrecked car and dropped to the floor.

'Mission accomplished.' Nightwing winked, before rendering the driver unconscious with a quick kick to the head. 'Sorry about that, didn't see you down there.' He approached the back of the car, but before he even had a chance to open the door he frowned, seeing through the cracked window and noticing the weapons crates however were not on the backseat as they should be, meaning he must have ditched them somewhere in the alleys. He stretched out his lithe, muscled body, aching from the impact made. 'Well that _can't_ be good… I wonder if Batman had better luck.'

Batman scratched his head, watching as Nightwing went off, playing the hero. He wondered what happened to the kid who didn't move unless Batman told him to. "They grow up so fast" came in to Batman's head before he turned to chase down the truck and rescue the hostage within.

Unlike the car, the truck was easy to find, sticking to the main streets and making a hell of a lot of noise. Batman only had to have his eyes open to be able to find it. Quickly giving chase, he grappled across the street to get closer as he continued running along the edge of the building. It was just in the distance, he could jump off and glide but it wouldn't be faster, so he continued to run.

Up ahead though, someone stopped the truck for him; a car, cutting across, smashed in to the side of the vehicle and sent it in to a spin. It came to a stop at an angle and it seemed it couldn't go on. Batman watched, as it appeared the crash was not an accident. The driver of the car got out, dressed all in black and masked, wielding a shotgun underarm as he approached the truck.

Things would get very messy very soon unless Batman stepped in. So, finally he unhooked his line launcher, and just as the assassin angled his shotgun through the passenger window, he intercepted, meeting the weapon under his feet and kicking it away.

The man, shocked turned and pulled out a knife, and went for Batman when he reached the ground, slashing the dull blade at his middle, Batman however swiftly back-stepped and again swerved to the side as the knife came back for another quick assault.

While this was going on however, the driver of the truck, who appeared dazed after the crash, staggered out of the other side of the truck, unseen by Batman and the shotgun thug. He stumbled around the back of the truck, opening the door and quickly retrieving the bound woman inside, who was unconscious from the crash, and he dragged her out of the back, making his escape while Batman was too busy in combat.

Continuing to dodge the furious knife-attack, Batman managed to catch the others' arm under his and twisted hard, disarming him of the weapon before kicking him back.

Stunned, the man was met with a ruthless palm to the face, which both knocked him flat on his back, and knocked him unconscious on the curb.

Although Batman had prevented a murder this night, he approached the truck, knowing already that the kidnapper had made off with the woman. He had half-hoped that he would find them on the other side of the truck, but no, they were nowhere to be seen. He quickly decided this was not the end of it, he had to catch up with Nightwing, and as they met up on the rooftops, he told Batman of the missing weapons and he told Nightwing of the kidnapper escaping and of the armed man who tried to kill him.

'Gang warfare?' Nightwing asked as they watched from the rooftops as a squadron of police cars showed up to arrest the men they had managed to apprehend, as well as assess the situation themselves.

'It's likely… but I wouldn't say this is the end of it. We need to find those weapons.' Batman said with determination.

'Yeah, and the girl.'

'Right.' Batman watched as the police put the man in the back of the cop car. 'I gave them the details, but there is only so much the force can do against the Families. Hopefully their statements will provide clues. I will not let this lead to more violence.'

'You mean _we_ won't.' Nightwing said disbelievingly. 'This is my case too now Bruce, Let me be involved.' His strong grip on Batman's forearms were not letting up.

'Alright, but we do this my way… no headstrong tactics… and no reckless theatrics.'

Nightwing scoffed and rolled his eyes. 'Like I would.'

'Well you have been known…'

'Ahem, you forget you taught me everything I know mister.' Nightwing acted offended but there wasn't a shred of it, he knew Batman too well, and in turn, Batman knew _him_ too well too.

Batman watched as Nightwing offered him a sly wink before heading out on his own again, reaffirming their separate ways. He found his eyes wander of their own accord and in wondering how much tighter could Nightwing's suit get; Batman smiled.

'That's what I'm afraid of.'


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: "Batman," "Nightwing," and all related characters/locations are the property of DC Comics._

_Summary: Following up on their clues, Batman & Nightwing join forces to find who is responsible for the criminal activities._

_Authors' Notes: For this story "Red Robin" (Tim Drake), is around, but will only get mention in the next chapter as I may have other plans for him in the future ;)_

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_**Batman: Under His Wing**_

Chapter Two: Family Business

'Well if it isn't Bruce Wayne. Glad you could make it.' The room was brightly lit, giving way to balloons and streamers as the main hall of the ballroom. There was a mass of people surrounding the room and making their way to the long table in the center of the room, designed to seat all the invited guests. James Gordon greeted Brue Wayne, who was dressed in a conservative, but obviously expensive fine suit, black jacket with black pants and shoes with a white shirt and he wore his hair in a straight comb. As Batman, he would never smile in greeting to the Police Commissioner, but that was all part of the façade that protected his identity to the public, and although Gordon had known both Bruce Wayne and Batman for many years, the connection between the two had never been made.

'Happy Birthday Jim.' He shook his hand in his most charming fashion, after all it wasn't every day Gotham got to celebrate the honor of one of it's finest and longest serving officer.

'Yeah, tell that to my back.'

'Is that still bothering you?' He asked, referring to Gordon's hard-working nature.

'Since I was thirty.' He laughed, looking at the big banner suspended above the table that read: "Happy 60th!"

'I suspect that won't stop you.' Bruce smiled, seeing Barbara appear behind him in her wheelchair. 'Gotham will always need Commissioner Gordon.' He sounded like he was kissing up but Bruce Wayne was genuinely grateful for the many years of service he had put in to the city. Any lesser officer would have easily corrupted by now—many have.

'Hi Bruce.' Barbara said, flicking her orange hair out of her eyes as she was forced to dress with her hair down per her fathers' request for this event. She hugged him as he bent down to return the gesture like they hadn't seen each other for years. She knew his secret and he knew hers. But as long as Batman and Oracle were not present, they were just Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon for the eyes and ears open to them.

'Barbara.' He kissed her cheek before coming to a stand. 'I hear your father will be taking a break this year.' He heard a disapproving grumble from Gordon.

'Oh? Yes, that's right, he didn't want to, I had to force him—he's so stubborn.' She rolled her eyes at her father while Bruce wheeled her to her place.

'I'm dedicated.' He corrected.

'You say dedicated, I say stubborn.' Barbara and Bruce shared in a laugh while the rest of the guests were shown in. Commissioner Gordon had the head of the table. On his right were family and friends; Barbara, his other kids and also Bruce and other influential figures, such as Lucius Fox and the Mayor and his wife. On the left side were Gordon's work colleagues, a few veteran cops and for some reason, Dick and another young man right at the end of the table. Bruce quirked his brow, and looked over warily before turning back to Barbara, who sat next to him.

'Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot to tell you; I invited Dick.' She shrugged her shoulders. 'Hope you don't mind.'

'No of course not.' Bruce wasn't about to tell her that he did mind. It just didn't seem right: bringing Dick along when she knew well he would find this kind of function mind numbingly boring. 'He's your friend, but who's the guy with him?'

Barbara raised her brow as she peered across, trying to get a glimpse of Dick, but the people scattered around finding their seats was obscuring her view, finally she caught sight of Dick's friend; about his age, a little shorter than him himself and with light brown hair. 'Oh, I don't know, there were a couple of extra seats.' She shrugged again. 'I guess Dick is still single because when I said he could bring a date I guess he couldn't find one.'

Bruce was grateful—he hated meeting Dick's girlfriends.

It wasn't as though they weren't nice girls, he always chose right. But for some reason Bruce felt protective and always grilled them on their intentions, embarrassing Dick to no end. He never had a lasting relationship as long as he lived at Wayne Manor. But as soon as he got out, and made his own identity, Bruce felt himself lost without him and back in a big quiet mansion all alone. He started spending more time as Batman after that, taking up the time that would have been spent training Dick, training himself.

After Dick became Nightwing, he had held a number of relationships for longer than a week, and was even engaged—twice. Bruce never found out who or what ended it but he wasn't interested in pushing him for the details after all, with his own disastrous relationships he was no one to talk.

Their eyes met and Dick smirked, sending weird shivers through him. He looked _so_ different. Bruce waved in response and the party continued with Commissioner Gordon standing to make a toast.

'Uh, I guess thank-you… All of you, that took the time to celebrate an old man's birthday. Thank-you, It means a lot.'

'Huh, a man a few words—your dad.' Bruce whispered, causing Barbara to chuckle.

Gordon quickly sat down after his informal speech which led to a few sparse cheers and conservative applause for the man who served Gotham longer that the Batman. The whole room was on their feet before Gordon waved them off and again, they all took their seats.

The function lasted in to the night and Bruce had a good time chatting amongst Barbara and her father, though the city of Gotham weighed heavily on his mind: he needed to get back out there. Gotham needed him right now.

Bruce didn't need to be held up, but as soon as he stood, people noticed.

'Are you leaving so soon?' Commissioner Gordon asked, immediately drawing attention to Bruce as he tried to make a swift escape. He was simply too high profile to just leave without anyone noticing. Barbara, however, knew why.

'Uh, yeah…'

'Come on dad, I'm sure Bruce has a busy day tomorrow.' She winked discreetly as Bruce smiled his thanks before leaving.

As soon as he put his hand on the handles of the door though, he managed to catch the eye of Dick, who also didn't fail to notice Bruce's escape, who had in fact, been watching him closely all night for such an event occurring. He stood, and made his way quickly and quietly to Bruce and they entered the lobby together, walking; Bruce with his hands in his pockets, Dick with his hands on his hips.

'What?' Bruce asked, quirking his brow to the younger male, who had suddenly started smiling for no reason. When he received no response, he stopped, making him stop too. 'Look, if you are coming with me, I need you to have your head in the right place.'

Dick looked at him, 'don't worry about me.'

'I'm not.'

'Gee that's nice.'

Not more that an hour later and both men had rejoined each other as Batman and Nightwing back on the streets of Gotham.

'I had Alfred run a trace on the trucks registration plate. The police have it too but tonight they will be too caught up in having fun than running a number plate. If we find the kidnapper, we interrogate him and find out who they traded the guns with and why.'

'That's the plan?'

'That's the plan.' Batman confirmed, connecting his suits internal systems to Oracle's, who too had found a way out of the party, now available to assist them. 'Oracle, it's me. Did you run a match of those numbers?'

'Running it now…'

'Hey, Bruce?' Nightwing stretched to prepare himself for the inevitable use of acrobatics he would be making use of. 'There's someone I want you to meet.' He said, grunting as he felt his shoulder pop. He was always very shy about letting Bruce in on his personal life, but since Bruce never picked up a phone and simply asked how he was doing—he assumed he didn't care, so Dick was uncomfortable telling him things.

Batman didn't respond, but he heard.

'Okay got it… the truck is registered to R. Thorne Shipping Co.'

'Should have known.' Batman knew the name well. 'Only a ruthless underworld boss with access to shipping would be trading in arms.' He set his router to find the quickest way to Thorne's Shipping yard.

'So the girl is being held there.' Nightwing presumed. 'If that's where the weapons came from—we need to shut it down.'

'We'll see.' Batman started walking, and spoke to Oracle. 'Oracle, can you send an anonymous tip to the Gotham PD? Unless arrests are made, there will be no stopping them.'

'Doing it now.'

'Sowing the seeds of suspicion eh?' Nightwing jested. 'What good will that do? Half of the force in in Thorne's back pocket.'

'They won't ignore an all-out gun war.' Batman stated.

As the pair stealthily approached the shipping yard, they immediately noticed the tight security; high fencing surrounding the entire perimeter, barbed wire, guards, dogs and if Batman's suspicions were correct: violent armed thugs.

They stuck to the shadow, Nightwing outpacing Batman—blatantly trying to show off, but Batman was not up for a test of skill with him, they had work to do. Although Batman was all-too aware of the impressive physique Nightwing showed off under the skin-tight suit: his imposing chest and abs, his prodigious thighs and calves, his arms and especially his taut butt—he felt the tingle of jealously, like a son outgrowing his father kind of jealously but still… he couldn't help but notice.

'Do I look good like this Batman?' Nightwing snickered as he bent over, peering around the corner.

'You look about as good as your pride.' Batman grumbled. Nightwing didn't lack ego. 'We're here, now keep low.'

'You don't need to tell me man.' Nightwing waved his arm as he crouched around the corner, taking the lead.

They did not approach from the main gate, as the guards would surely have spotted them and raised the alarms, they instead approached from the side, from the loading bay where the containers were held and maintained a crouch as they stopped where Batman seemed to have an interest in a specific section of the fence, where he dug his finger in and lifted away a piece of the chain-link fence that seemed to have been cut away previously.

'Just how many times have you broken in to here?' Nightwing asked, following as Batman ducked through the hole. He backed up against a shipping container, and peered around the side, getting a view of the shipyard. There was indeed several thuggish guards, burly and tough looking.

Batman just darted past Nightwing and pressed up against an opposite container. 'A few.'

'Look.' Nightwing pointed out a row of trucks near the entrance, parked side-by-side. They trucks were identical to the one they had intercepted the night before. They at least knew they were looking in the right place.

Up ahead, Batman saw a guard with a dog on a leash sniffing around and quickly realized this could get problematic. They would have to avoid detection in order to successfully sneak in to the main warehouse and get a good look around.

The majority of the shipping yard was filled with large containers, so it wouldn't be difficult to keep hidden. The guards were not in a pattern, they just seemed to be patrolling, passing Batman and Nightwing with their flashlight giving away their position in the dark.

Batman laid out the location before him, testing the waters by switching on his detective mode sight and seeing the flashlights, he signaled to Nightwing, who moved up to the next set of containers—just behind a passing guard, and followed by Batman. There was a door to the foreman's office on the corner, the lights were on, illuminating the whole corner and looking forward, Nightwing held out his hand, halting Batman as he saw through the window, the Foreman's feet up on the table as he watched his security monitors.

The pair unwittingly drew straws, and Batman decided to close in, shifting behind a guard and slinking by him unseen as he crept low. Nightwing were his eyes as he climbed up on top of a shipping container, laying on his stomach as he got a better view of the whole area and just as Batman was about to turn the door handle, he heard the sound of a dog growling, and quickly he swung around the corner, taking cover as a pair of thugs passed him, too busy laughing about some vulgar thing to notice Batman covering himself with his cape in the corner.

The sound alerted Nightwing to check behind them. The dog was sniffing furiously at where they had entered the hole in the fence. The guard, however, didn't care to look at what the angry dog was so worked up about and strolled on tugging the leash hard.

Looking back at Nightwing up on the containers, he caught his nod, and once he did, Batman knew he was clear of the dog. He opened the door and faced the Foreman's back as he sat back in his chair, leaning on two of it's four legs—both feet on the desk and smoking a cigar at a furious pace.

'Jim? You get those scores today? What a game!' He didn't bother to look back.

'I must have missed it.' Batman spoke but before he could turn around, the grip of Batman's hand was already on his neck, yanking him back out of his chair where he crashed to the floor, his head meeting it with such impact that he was rendered unconscious—left their on the floor by Batman, who took a good look at the security monitors.

Nightwing waited, watching the pattern of the guards as the circled around the yard. Something was off though as the thugs seemed to be taking the insistence of their dogs seriously and letting them lead them around the containers, following their scents around the whole yard, soon enough they may start searching.

'Psst Batman… gonna be long in there?' Whispered Nightwing; aware that the dogs were getting vicious and he was worried that Batman might have a hard time getting out of the Foreman's office.

Batman's eyes were glued to the monitor's; he couldn't see anything suspicious—but he knew Thorne better. The chances of something shady going on was very high considering the power he knew Rupert Thorne and his Family to hold; one of the most active and long-standing criminal groups in Gotham. As he looked closer, he spotted some inconsistencies, such as the fact that there were not nearly enough cameras as there were places to put them: the place was huge, and Batman only saw four active camera's—all focused on the outside.

After getting what he needed, Batman was about to leave the Foreman's office when he heard voices outside—the thugs were heading to the office.

Nightwing saw this, and had to think fast; being brave, he decided to trick the hounds with his wrist darts—which he preceded to shoot the backside of one of the dogs, no damage done but it stung like hell.

'Whoa! What the hell is wrong with you mutt!' The handler shouted as the dog suddenly went crazy, unaware that the cause was a painful dart in the dog's rump. It was acting like it had turned feral, biting the thug and tearing at his legs as if he as the cause of his trouble. The commotion caught the attention of all the other thugs guarding the shipping yard and they came running to help him, falling for Nightwing's trick.

'Yes!' He whispered loudly to himself following a little fist-pump in the air, proud of himself.

'Thanks.' Batman said over his earpiece as he dashed out of the office and back outside where Nightwing had climbed down from the containers and rejoined him.

'You're welcome!' Nightwing grinned briefly.

'They'll find out something's not right soon.' Batman said, implying they hurry in to the warehouse, which Batman decided the best shot at finding what they were looking for was inside Warehouse "X", an unlisted building at the back of the others.

'"Warehouse X" huh? Well If I was an evil mastermind, it wouldn't be my first choice of a lair.' Joked Nightwing as he tried the side door in to the warehouse. 'Locked…'

'Obviously.' Batman indicated to the grapple on Nightwing's belt.

'Ah, well we tried, let's go to the batcave and have Alfred cook us up some grub.'

The firm grip on his arm made him stay. They both looked at each other as Nightwing followed Batman in getting his firing his grapple hook alongside Batman's, catching the ledge of the warehouse perfectly as they propelled silently to the roof.

Batman was ever aware of locked doors and as a matter of routine, he had gotten used to finding other ways to access areas. The roof usually worked. And as he looked around for a way in, Nightwing waved him over: he had found a loose panel, which they slid out of the way working together as it gave way and granted them access in to the obviously not unused building. Inside it was large, although dark, they could still see the warehouse contained lots and lots of boxes, some empty, some full with nothing but old newspapers and engine parts it seemed.

Nightwing dropped down first, landing swiftly on the ground below. It was very dark inside, luckily the night vision adaptors in Nightwing's mask provided sight, so did Batman's cowl, which had many capabilities including-ray and filters to automatically adjust to brightness as well as detect certain irregularities such as gasses.

They came chest to chest when Batman touched down next to him. Nightwing just smirked as a moment of silence passed as they waited, listening to the silence outside—broken. The dogs were at the doors of the warehouse, scratching and snarling fiercely for entry. Still the shouting of the thugs insisted the dogs had just seen a cat or something, but they were getting dangerously close to finding out the ship yard had been infiltrated.

'See anything?' Nightwing asked, squinting in to the darkness. There was a room, on the catwalks up above with the dim light casting light through the metal gratings that told them they may be someone up above. So, they mounted the stairs, aware that the guards shouting outside revealed that the unconscious Foreman had been found by and they were on the hunt. They made it upstairs, feet clattering over the metal grating of the walkways, careless now if they were to be found by the noise they were making—speed was all that mattered.

'I see someone inside!' Batman exclaimed. He rushed through the open door. Sat there, back to them in a chair was the same woman—the kidnap victim from last night, hands tied behind the chair. The pair rushed to her aid, quickly reaching for her tied hands to free her from her ordeal.

'Batman…'

'I know.' Batman growled as his hand left the plastic flesh of the "woman's" arm. The sound of guns cocking at their backs was more than enough of an indication they had been deceived.

'Well if it isn't the bat walking in to my snake pit once again.'

'Rupert Thorne.' Batman turned, facing the head of the criminal Family and his group of armed thugs, a tasteless smile across his face as he had them surrounded in the small room. Of course, Thorne himself wasn't armed: he was too busy looking smugly at his enemy Batman and letting his crew do it for him.

'That's right.' He hummed, delighting in the cold expression from under the dark knight's cowl. Rupert Thorne was in his mid-fifties and very hefty with white hair and a habitual smirk that seemed to tell the story of how many times Batman had tried and failed to take him down in their past encounters.

Nightwing didn't flinch—Even though having a gun pointed at him was not a new experience, it still wasn't something anyone should be used to. He scowled, looking down the muzzle of the machine gun in front of him, anxious to make any sudden moves.

'It was a trap.' Batman growled, aware that it had been too easy to just avoid a few unarmed thugs.

'Not intentionally Batman, but when I heard you were involved in our little… deal last night hah, I knew you couldn't resist the opportunity to play hero again.'

'Why trade your guns for the Mayor's girlfriend?' Remarked Batman, still unaware of the details of the mobs latest black market scheming in Gotham City. 'And where is she?'

'Deborah Carter?' He laughed. 'Let's just say the mayor owed a certain shady group of people on the wrong side of the track some cold hard cash, and when he refused to pay back… They took his shameful little secret and told him that if he didn't pay them back… they would cut the miserable woman's head off.' He shook his head, pretending to care. Batman didn't need him to continue.

'So you took the opportunity and offered them something they couldn't resist… just so you could hold that kind of power over the mayor!?' He couldn't believe the way human lives meant so little to these people.

'Oh please…' He rolled his eyes, outwardly annoyed. 'You and me both know Mayor Hill has been in my back pocket for years… this was just… insurance.'

'Insurance?' Batman snarled, about ready to jump on Thorne if not for Nightwing's gentle urging-his arms around his waist, he would have. 'You gave Gotham city guns and traded a woman's life… for insurance? Do you have any idea what you have done Thorne?'

'Hey—I'm a business man, and whatever the Joker, or the Penguin, or whichever costumed freak you choose to fight has those guns—my part in this is over, I don't care what they choose to do with their property.'

'And what about the woman?' Nightwing asked for Batman, who was becoming increasingly hard to handle under the scrutiny of Rupert Thorne's antagonistic conduct.

'Don't worry about her, I don't need her any more, she is back to whatever street corner she frequents, I'm no monster.' He shrugged his shoulders before turning his back, leaving the room to Batman and his thugs, guns trained on both Batman and Nightwing. 'As I said Batman, my part in this is over… and so is yours. Say goodbye.'


End file.
